back on his heels.
She’d done it.
Her smile grew until she was certain everyone on the platform could see it.
Chapter Fifteen
A car was waiting for them when they arrived in London.
By car, he meant limousine.
AJ wasn’t a stranger to luxury travel, but the accommodations they were taken to were something else. Even in the pitch-black of night, long past midnight, the silhouette of the estate Sasha had taken them to was impressive.
“Who lives here?” Claire asked.
“A friend.”
AJ grabbed Sasha’s bag and started up the steps. “Some kind of friend.”
The massive front door opened before they reached it.
The man who opened the door filled it with broad shoulders and a thick neck.
“Neil?”
“Reed would have come, but—”
“I didn’t request backup.” Sasha moved past AJ and Claire.
“The fact you requested anything at all gives me a reason to be here.”
Neil gave Sasha a stare that would intimidate the most hardened man.
Not Sex on a Stick. She stared back, her chest rising and falling with short breaths.
Claire brushed past AJ and straight up to the brick shithouse of a man. “I’m Claire.” She put her hand out.
Neil stared at it.
When he hesitated a moment too long, Claire reached out with her left hand, grabbed Neil’s right, and pushed his palm into hers. She shook it twice before letting go. “Nice to meet you, Neil,” she said.
AJ bit his tongue to keep from laughing.
Sasha shook her head and walked around Neil and into the house. “I’ll give you a briefing in twenty minutes.”
“I’m AJ Hofmann.”
“I know who you are,” Neil told him. Unlike with Claire, Neil put his hand out to shake.
His grip proved what AJ had already determined. Neil was a whole lot of muscle behind his girth.
“Thank you for having us.”
Neil closed the door behind them.
Sasha and Claire were following a woman in a maid’s uniform up the stairs.
“Coffee or whiskey?” Neil asked.
“Is that even a question? I’ve been traveling with the two of them all day.”
AJ couldn’t say for sure if Neil smiled. But there was something in his eyes that passed as humor before he turned and led him into a den.
Sasha joined them nineteen minutes later. She was prompt, AJ would give her that.
She’d changed out of the wig and housewife sweater and slipped on a tank top that hugged her chest and abdomen like a good friend on a Saturday night. Upon entering the room, she crossed to the whiskey in the decanter and poured herself a drink.
“Where’s Claire?”
“Facedown in a bed.”
AJ envied her.
“What did Reed tell you?” Sasha asked Neil.
“The basics. Hofmann is searching for his sister’s murderer, thinks it’s linked to your old school. The names you gave Reed have met with unfortunate dates with the grim reaper.”
“You’ve seen the data?” she asked.
“Everything Reed found.”
“Your first impression?” Sasha sipped her drink.
“There’s a link. I’m just not sure what yet.”
Sasha moved to what looked like a small secretary desk and pulled out a drawer. From there she removed a Bluetooth keyboard and made a few keystrokes.
What appeared to be a solid wall with paintings of family members peeled back to reveal a series of monitors from floor to ceiling.
“Holy crap,” AJ muttered.
Sasha slid a zip drive into the computer port after the wall revealed a second desk.
A few more keystrokes and a series of pictures were brought up on the screen.
“I took several pictures of the yearbooks from when Amelia Hofmann attended Richter. The group photos to help establish personal relationships. Senior photos with names.” She pressed another button and two pictures popped up. “Top left. This is the headmistress, Linette. She’s been in charge of Richter for as long as I remember.”
“This is a current picture?” Neil asked.
Sasha nodded. “I took all of these this week.”
“Who is the guy in the suit?” AJ asked.
“Geoff Pohl. Or Creepazoid, as Claire likes to call him.”
“The businessman?” Neil asked.
“Yes, but maybe with this picture, we can find something.”
“I’ll get the team on it.”
AJ sat forward. “Are you going to explain what Claire meant when she said this man offered you a job to kill?”
Neil narrowed his eyes.
Sasha slid a second drive into the computer. “It appears that Linette has some sort of arrangement with Pohl for him to interview students graduating from Richter for classified positions that require high marks in agility, self-defense, marksmanship, foreign languages, and computer skills.”
“Covert operations . . . spies?” Neil asked.
“That’s what I thought.” Sasha pressed play, and a male voice sounded through the speakers. “That’s Pohl.”
They sat and listened to the conversation between Sasha and